"I wish you'd stop eating chocolates!" said Mary crossly. "Is this quite the moment?"
Vicky wrinkled her brow. "Well, I didn't have any tea, and quite truthfully I don't see anything particularly irreverent about it. In fact, darling, you're being fairly fraudulent yourself, when you come to consider it.
What's more, the whole situation seems to me so awful that if you're going to make it worse, by putting over a pious act of your own, life will become definitely unbearable."
"I'm sorry if I sounded artificially pious," replied Mary. "I suppose you feel that you helped to make things more bearable by telling that policeman all about Baker?"
"I wouldn't wonder. I get very brilliant in my bath, and I had a bath before I came down, and I decided that if you've got a dissolute secret which is practically bound to come to light, you'd much better be the first person to mention it. Moreover," she added, eyeing the chocolates with her head on one side, "it took the Inspector's mind off me for the moment, which I particularly wanted to do."
"Particularly wanted to do?"
"Well, I've got to think up a convincing excuse for being practically on the scene of the crime, haven't I?"
"You little fool," interrupted Hugh, "are you seriously proposing to fake an alibi for yourself?"
"Oh yes, I was a Girl Guide once, for about a fortnight, and they say you should always Be Prepared. Which reminds me of what I actually came to talk to you about, Mary. Do you think considering everything, it might do good if we directed the Inspector's attention to Alexis?"
"Do good?" gasped Mary. "Do you mean, try and cast suspicion on the unfortunate man?"
"Yes, but in an utterly lady-like way."
"No, I do not! I never heard of anything so - so conscienceless!"
"But, darling, don't be one of those irksome people who can't look at a thing from more than one angle! Because this is probably going to be very momentous. You can't pretend it would be a cherishing sort of thing to do to let Ermyntrude marry Alexis. The more I consort with him, the more I feel convinced he's exactly like somebody or other in Shakespeare, who smiled and smiled and was a villain. And, unless we gum up the works, there isn't a thing to stop him marrying Ermyntrude, and then abandoning the poor sweet as soon as he's hypnotised her into making a colossal settlement on him."
Mary looked appealingly towards Hugh. He said judicially: "I quite agree that it would be a mistake for your mother to marry Varasashvili, but it would be a damned dirty trick to try and cast suspicion on him, and you mustn't do it. Not that the police are likely to pay much heed to you once they've been privileged to see a little more of you."
"You never know," Vicky murmured.
"In any case, it won't be necessary for you to shove your oar in," said Hugh. "The police are naturally suspicious of everyone who was in any way connected with your stepfather."
"Yes," said Mary. "And what the Inspector won't know of the cross-currents in this house after his heart-to-heart talk with Peake, won't be worth knowing!"
Chapter Eight
Inspector Cook, who had had no very wide experience of murder cases, and who had been thrown badly out of his stride by his interview with the members of Wally Carter's family, was discovering in Peake, the butler, the first witness who gave his evidence fully, and to the point. Mrs. Peake, and the young housemaid he had soon dismissed, for the housemaid was too frightened to stop sobbing, and Mrs. Peake, a comfortably shaped woman who had, she informed him, been in the best service all her life, declined knowing anything beyond the realm of her kitchen.
But Peake gave the Inspector no trouble at all. He had been in his pantry, he said, at the time of Wally's death, but he admitted without any hesitation that he could produce no proof of this statement. When he was asked if he knew of anyone having a grudge against Wally, he looked down his thin nose, and replied primly that he believed a young man calling himself Baker had considerable cause to bear Wally a grudge.
"Yes, I want to know more about that young fellow," said the Inspector. "I understand he came up to the house to see Mr. Carter?"
"He came twice," said Peake. "Upon the first occasion, which was early yesterday afternoon, Miss Vicky interviewed him. I could not say what took place between them, I'm sure. He returned about half past nine in the evening, and although I informed him that Mr. Carter was engaged with guests, he refused to withdraw. He came upon a motor bicycle on both occasions. He appeared to me to be a very violent young man."
"Ah, violent, was he? What makes you think that?"
"He uttered threats of a mysterious nature, and when I told him to be off he put his foot down so that I was unable to shut the door."
"What sort of threats?"
"I should not like to say," replied Peake. "I paid very little heed to him, seeing that he was quite a common person, and wearing one of those red ties. I recall that he said Mr. Carter would be sorry if he refused to see him, besides ranting a great deal about his sister's honour, in a very vulgar way."
"Oh! Did Mr. Carter see him?"
"Mr. Carter was with him in the library for about half an hour."
"Did you happen to hear what was said?" asked the Inspector.
"Certainly not," replied Peake frigidly.
"Any sounds of altercation?"
"Upon my way through the hall, I noticed that Baker's voice was unbecomingly raised," admitted Peake.
"What about today? Has he been here again?"
"He has not been here to my knowledge."
"And is he the only person you know of who might have wanted to murder Mr. Carter?"
"Oh no, Inspector!" said Peake calmly.
The Inspector looked narrowly at him. "Come on, then: out with it! What other enemies had he got?"
"There is Mr. Steel, for one," answered Peake.
"Do you mean Mr. Steel of Oaklands Farm?"
"That's right, Inspector."
"What had he got against Mr. Carter?"
"It is common knowledge that Mr. Steel is greatly attached to Mrs. Carter."
"Do you mean he's in love with her?"
"That is the general opinion, Inspector. Mr. Steel is not one to hide his feelings, and I have more than once seen him look at Mr. Carter in a way which gave me quite a turn." He coughed behind his hand. "I wouldn't want to conceal anything from you, Inspector, and I am bound to say that Mr. Carter did not behave to Mrs. Carter as he should. There have been some very regrettable incidents. One could not altogether blame Mr. Steel for feeling as he did. We have thought lately in the servants' hall, that matters were approaching what one might call a crisis. Mr. Steel called to see Mrs. Carter this morning, at a time when she was greatly upset by a quarrel with Mr. Carter. When Mr. Steel left, I chanced to be within earshot, and I could not but hear what he said to Miss Cliffe in the hall."
"What was that?"
"I'm sure I don't wish to say anything that might give you a wrong impression, Inspector. Mr. Steel was in a black rage, and he told Miss Cliffe he would like to break Mr. Carter's neck."
"Did he see Mr. Carter this morning?"
"No, Inspector. He left the house saying he could not bring himself to sit at table with Mr. Carter. He told Miss Cliffe he had been in love with Mrs. Carter ever since he had first known her."
"Nice goings on in this house!" muttered the Inspector. "What about this Prince? What's he doing here?"
"Prince Varasashvili," replied Peake, "is a friend of Mrs. Carter. She met him at Antibes."
"Oh, one of those, is he?" said the Inspector knowingly.
"An impoverished foreign nobleman, I understand, Inspector. Very much the ladies' man. We have noticed that Mrs. Carter seems to be greatly taken with him."
"What about Mr. Carter?"
"Mr. Carter was not in favour of the Prince's visit. Mr. Carter went so far as to say to me, when he was slightly intoxicated, that it was his belief the Prince was after his wife's money."
,He did, did he? What about Mrs. Carter's daughter?
; It wouldn't by any chance be her he's after?"
"I fancy not, Inspector."
"What kind of a girl is this Miss Fanshawe?"
"Miss Vicky, Inspector, is a very unexpected young lady. One never knows what she will be at next, in a manner of speaking. She is devoted to Mrs. Carter."
"And the other one?"
"Miss Cliffe is a nice young lady. She was Mr. Carter's ward, and Mr. Carter did tell me that he should leave all his money to her."
"Well, that wasn't much, by all accounts."
"Mr. Carter, Inspector, was expecting to come into a great deal of money. He never made any secret of that. He has a rich aunt, a very old lady, I understand, who has been confined in a private lunatic asylum for many years."
"From what I've seen of this house, that's one thing that doesn't surprise me!" said the Inspector.
He put one or two more questions to the butler, but soon found that Peake had told him all he knew. He requested him to summon Miss Cliffe to the morningroom, and sat digesting the information he had acquired until Mary came in.
"You want to speak to me, Inspector?"
"If you please, miss," said the Inspector, indicating a chair.
She sat down on it. She was looking a little pale, and there was an anxious expression in her eyes which did not escape the Inspector.
"Now, miss! I understand that Mr. Robert Steel called here this morning to see Mrs. Carter. Is that a fact?"
"Yes."
"You didn't mention it to me before. How was that?"
"I didn't think it was important. Mr. Steel is a close friend, and often drops in to see us."
"Was Mr. Steel a close friend of Mr. Carter's, miss?"
She hesitated. "I should call him a friend of the house."
"Is it not a fact that he is Mrs. Carter's friend?"
"He is more her friend than Mr. Carter's. But he is also a friend of mine."
"We'll let that pass, miss. Had you no reason to suppose that Mr. Steel might feel more than friendly towards Mrs. Carter?"
"You had better ask him," said Mary stiffly.
"I shall do so, miss, make no mistake about that! But I'm asking you now: when he was here this morning did Mr. Steel give you any reason to suppose that he was feeling very un-friendly towards Mr. Carter?"
"Mr. Steel and Mr. Carter never hit it off very well," she replied evasively.
"No, miss? Why was that?"
"I don't know. They are very different types."
"I put it to you, miss, that you know very well that Mr. Steel is in love with Mrs. Carter."
"Perhaps," Mary said. "It wouldn't be surprising if he were.
"My information is that Mr. Steel told you this morning that he had been in love with Mrs. Carter ever since he first knew her. Is that correct?"
Though she had mistrusted Peake, she had not suspected that he had overheard her conversation with Steel. Colour rushed into her cheeks; she felt the ground sliding from under her feet; and could only answer: "Yes. He did say so."
"Did he also tell you that he would like to break Mr. Carter's neck?"
"I don't know. I can't remember."
"Come, come, miss! Don't you think you would remember if anyone had made a threat like that?"
"Oh, it wasn't a threat!" Mary said unguardedly. "Mr. Steel was very angry with Mr. Carter for upsetting his wife, and people do say stupid things when they're angry."
"And it didn't seem important to you, in view of what has happened?"
"No, not in the least."
"You weren't surprised that Mr. Steel should say such a thing?"
"No. He has rather a quick temper," She broke off, aghast at her own disclosures.
"He has a quick temper, has he? Perhaps he has said very much the same sort of thing before about what he'd like to do to Mr. Carter?"
"No, indeed he hasn't!"
"Oh? And yet you weren't surprised when he said it today?"
"No. I can't explain, but surely you know how one says extravagant things one doesn't really mean when one is angry?"
The Inspector ignored this, and as he seemed to have no more questions to ask, Mary rose to her feet. "If that's all ? You wanted to see Prince Varasashvili. He came back about ten minutes ago. Shall I ask him to come in here?"
"Thank you, miss, if you'll be so good."
The Inspector's first view of the Prince did not predispose him in his favour. The Prince's sleek black hair, with its ordered waves, his brilliant smile, and his accentuated waist-line, filled the Inspector, a plain man, with vague repulsion. He thought that the Prince looked just the type of good-for-nothing lizard whom you would expect to find hanging round a rich woman like Ermyntrude Carter.
The Prince came in without hesitation, and made a gesture with his expressive hands. "You are the Inspector of Police? You desire to interrogate me? I understand perfectly. This terrible affair! You will forgive me that I find myself so startled, so very-much shocked, I can find no words! Ah, my poor hostess!"
"Yes, indeed, sir," said the Inspector woodenly. "Very bad business. May I have your full name and address, please?"
"My address!" said the Prince, with one of his mournful smiles. "Alas, I have no longer an address to call my own since my country has been in the hands of my enemies. My name is Alexis Feodor Gregorovitch Varasashvili. I am absolutely at your service."
The Inspector drew a breath, and requested him to spell it. When he had succeeded in transcribing the name correctly in his notebook, he said that he understood that the Prince was a friend of Mrs. Carter.
"She does me the honour of saying so," bowed the Prince.
"Have you been acquainted with her for long?"
"No, for I met her a few months ago only, at Antibes." "And Mr. Carter, too?"
"Ah no, Mr. Carter did not accompany his wife! I met Mr. Carter for the first time on Friday, when I arrived to spend the week-end here. Little did I think then it would end in such tragedy!"
"No, sir. I understand that you were one of the last people to see Mr. Carter before he set out for the Dower House this afternoon?"
"Is it so indeed? That I did not know, for I myself was gone from the house before he left it. I asked of him the way to Dr Chester's house. Miss Cliffe, I think, was present. Yes, I am sure. I left her with him."
"At what time would that have been, sir?"
The Prince shook his head. "I am sorry. I cannot tell you. It was certainly more than half past four, but I cannot be precise, for I had not the occasion to look at my watch."
"What did you do when you left the house, sir?"
"But naturally I walked to the garage. I should explain, perhaps, that Miss Fanshawe was so very kind as to lend me her car. I drove myself, therefore, to the doctor's house."
"Did you happen to notice what the time was when you arrived there?"
The smile flashed out again. "It is, I see, very fortunate for me that I can say yes, Inspector. Mr. Carter told me it was impossible that I should mistake the house, and this I found was entirely true. I did, in fact, arrive at five minutes to five. The doctor was not in: he had been called out, his housekeeper told me. But in perhaps ten minutes he came back, and we had tea together, and he showed me his relics, until it was time for him to go to his surgery. Then I motored back here, to find - what horror!"
"Yes, indeed, sir, I'm sure. I take it you can prove what you've just told me? That you reached the doctor's house at five minutes to five?"
The Prince wrinkled his brow. "Of course it is most necessary. Surely the good woman. Dr Chester's housekeeper, would know? Yes, for we spoke of the time, since I had arrived a little before I was expected."
The Inspector nodded. "Very good, sir. Were you a member of the shooting-party Mr. Carter went on yesterday?"
"Certainly, yes."
"I understand there was some sort of an accident, sir?"
The Prince flung up his hands. "Oh no, no, no! That is to exaggerate, I assure you! There was no accident, but only a great p
iece of folly, I am persuaded."
"On whose part, sir?"
"I must not conceal from you that it was the carelessness of Mr. Carter that so nearly made an accident. You have heard, perhaps, that Mr. Carter spoke of being fired at, in particular pointing to Mr. Steel in a manner not at all polite, and quite absurd also! I do not know whether there was some misunderstanding about Mr. Carter's post: it is certain that I, and Mr. Steel, and Dr Chester, thought he was to have stood in a certain place. It is possible that Mr. Carter mistook, though Mr. Steel, and indeed the good doctor too, declared it was not so, but merely that he had moved from his original stand. I do not know, but that Mr. Steel should shoot with deliberation at his host I find not at all probable."
"So Mr. Carter thought it was Mr. Steel who shot at him, sir? What made him pick on him rather than you, or the doctor, who, I understand, might as easily have done it?"
"Ah no, not as easily!" protested the Prince. "For both of us, it would have been a more difficult shot. But it is a piece of nonsense! It is not worth discussing."
"That's as may be, sir, and for me to judge. What exactly did Mr. Carter say about this incident?"
"You ask me to recall absurdities, Inspector. Mr. Carter was one who talked a great deal, without much sense. I did not concern myself, for when a man talks in the style of the theatre about those who desire his death, it is not important, but on the contrary, quite tiresome. For me, I did not find that Mr. Carter's dislike of Mr. Steel was at all sensible."
"Did you form any opinion why Mr. Carter should have thought Mr. Steel wanted him put away?"
The Prince studied his polished finger-nails for a moment in silence. Then he looked up rather deprecatingly. "Inspector, you ask of me a very delicate question. I must tell you that I am not familiar with these people. I speak as an onlooker: I am nothing but a weekend guest here. But it is plain to me that Mr. Steel admires excessively Mrs. Carter. One understands in part the jealousy of Mr. Carter. I have perhaps said too much. You will not regard it. Is there more that you would ask of me?"
"That'll be all for the present, sir. Were you meaning to go back to London tomorrow? Because if so, I must trouble you '
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